#I’m so excited for herrrrr

[corynm]

A sketch of Ruby Sunday ahead of the Christmas special 💕

[sosuigeneris]

I bought the cutest coach bag for Sania’s birthday gift!! It’s going to come on the 30th. I’m so excited for her to see it.

this is herrrrr 👇

She loves minis. I thought about getting her a mini black bag, but she has that already. I decided to get her this cute denim one. It’s so pretty and perfect for the summer, I think it’s a great day and night bag as well.

[writingsbychlo]

God I love sweet like sugar and I’m so excited to see how the Rhys and Cass shit works out because god damn that was RUDE. Also I love that both feyre and Nesta were like I beg your fucking pardon my shithead mate did WHAT(also the cardio comment made nes seem so stinking cute idk why lol)

i really made the best of nesta in this fic, she’s gonna be so great, y’all gonna love herrrrr even more with stuff to come. that was a cute moment, I’m proud of it 💅🏼

[cicadascribbles]

But wait- THERE’S MORE

My tirade is not finished quite yet!!

- I can’t leave without talking about THESE FACES

- HOLY HELL I WAS NOT EXPECTING TO SEE MOROS

- He seems very much like his brother Thanatos just a tad kinder

- And just ABSGEGEHR

- Honestly not as surprised but no less excited to see Apollo!! Cuz how could they not include Apollo in another Hades game?

- *NEMESIS* HOO BOY

- Hehe, buff ladyyy

- Please tell me she’s a romance option-

- Also I’m wondering if the blade she has is her Stygius aspect or another blade. Cuz if it’s Stygius than how did it get back into her hands? Or could that maybe signify that this game takes place in the past? When Nemesis still wielded Stygius?

- This makes me wonder who else we’ll be seeing? Maybe Hestia or Hephaestus since we were all wondering where they were in the first Hades? Maybe some of the enemies might be Keres? Eris maybe?

- Herrrrr!! I’m gonna love her!

- Cute goofy shade companion!

- I’m really curious about this cauldron spell stuff going on cuz this gathering area seems like the place of rest/where you go after you die to gather resources/interact/reflect, so could this cauldron be an equivalent to Nyx’s mirror? Or maybe some mechanic that boosts your spells and skills?

- VERYYYYY INTRIGUED BY THE LOOMING THREAT OF CRONOS

- The ticking felt very unnerving

- Overall this game just feels a tad creepier than the first

- I’m also wondering: why does Chronos need to be slain? Time is eternal and virtually unkillable but he’s been locked away in Tartarus. So is he breaking out? Waking up? also Melinoe is out to kill a TITAN?? We’re gonna try and kill a TITAN?? Zag only ever beat Hades! Which is nothing to sneeze at but CRONOS- who is like INSANE also GIANT

- I’m also very intrigued as to what Melinoe’s personality may be like. She’s seems more stern and stoic than Zag who in his trailer debut seemed a bit more cocky and throughout gameplay showed to be very kind, sarcastic, considerate and stubborn.

- I wonder if she’s more like Hades seeing that she’s fighting *to* him rather than away from him

But all in all I am HYPED I am READY an boy oh boy I picked an awesome time to get back into Hades!!

[chigirisprincess]

FAWN. THE LOOK(S) FRANCESCA GAVE MICHAELA (I dont know spelling) ???? FAWN FAWN FANW SAPPHIC LOVE STORY???

I just need to come here bc ik we were talking about Francesca’s story and I agree that so far hers is definitely my favorite 😭😭

SHE WAS SO TAKEN WITH HERRRRR!!!

ITS SO DARLING!!!! i don’t wanna give anything away but if they keep michela’s characterization the same as then books, we are in for a truly wild ride !!!! i’m so excited!!!! :3

and frankie’s face when she saw her !!!! stumbling over her words. oh she’s gonna fall so hard for her!

[eusuntgratie]

wip whenever

tagged by @onward--upward a billion times thank you for not giving up on meeeee <3

i've been working on an exchange fic and couldn't share but i'm finally back to working on my patty retires fic. PLEASE send me all your actually-finish-a-longer-wip vibes i am dying i want to finish herrrrr.

a longer snippet since i missed a couple of these (terri is tk's mom just fyi)

Two days later he’s pulling up to TK’s cabin, feeling more bummed than he expected to be that TK isn’t there, but Terri is waiting for him inside with a key on a 67’s keyring, food in the fridge, fresh sheets on the bed, and towels in the bathroom. It feels like… well, he’s not really ready to look at what it feels like to have her do all that for him.  “It’s good to see you, honey. I’m glad you’re here. Travis is so excited.”  She gives him a hug and tells him about a million things about Port Stanley and the house that he immediately forgets and doesn’t say anything about hockey or ask him any questions. He hugs her back and is surprised by how settled it makes him feel.  “Make yourself at home. If you need anything before Travis gets here, you call me, okay?” He feels like he should take her to dinner or do- something, but she bustles out of the house and leaves him alone in Travis’ space before he can offer.  He spends an hour just walking around staring at shit. The place is so TK it’s funny- almost exactly what he pictured when he’d talk about it. He stands with the fridge door open staring at a six pack for way too long but decides not to push it, fills up a cup of water and heats up a plate of food Terri left for him and goes to sit on the porch. It’s beautiful here, and for the first time in forever he just sits and looks out at the world, mind peacefully blank instead of the swirl of angry and frustrated thoughts he’s grown way too used to. 

tagging anybody who has words to share <3

[ike-mcswains-mortician]

Now I am the one who is eepy :]] ehehehdgjdhdk However! I have Wynn art! Since i’m really excited to see where her story goes!!

and some sillies for obvious reasons:

hehehe she’s so loser coded/aff and wet cat coded i love herrrr ahdhdhd ok godnminght gona eep :D

WYNNNANSGHSGDHS IM GONNA FUCKING DIE OH MY GOD OH MY GOD AAAAAHHHNGNFHDH FUCK OH MY GOD ITS HERRRRRR ITS MY LITTLE LOSER WET CAT AAAAAH (<- running in circles jumping up and down stimming so hard i break my wrists)

THANKYOU????) WTF OH MY GOD YOURE THE BEST??????? I LOVE HERRRRR IM PUTTING YOUR ART IN MY MOUTH NOM NOM

now GO TO SLEEP!!!!!!

[theealluringstoryteller]

Omg Nina is omorose‘s nanny right ? I can’t wait to meet herrrrr😻

Also since when is Nina is rose‘s life ? Has she always been in her life and saw her growing up? And did she know how horrible her parents treated her? Or did her parents and Omorose both act like everything was fine ?

Sorry for asking so many questions,I’m just so invested in this series+I’m so excited for the next chapter

Nina is a OC not cannon I want to make that clear. And Nina is Omorose’s nurse since she was fresh from the womb.

Yeah Nina witnessed everything and was also treated horribly! Everyone who worked for Omorose’s parents was treated horribly.

[abbaswift]

i’m going on a caravan holiday with my four year old cousin this week and so far the thing she’s most excited about is sitting next to me for two hours on the car journey, i ADOREEEEEE HERRRRR

[justanormalfangirlx2]

Dreamwastaken X Reader

hi! this is my first real one-shot and i hope you enjoy!

TW: use of Dream and Sapnap’s real names!!!

Y/N POV

Today. Dream and I’s face reveal was happening. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m terribly excited to see him, it’s just what if he doesn’t like what’s behind my mask? I talked to George and Sapnap about the possibility of me flying out to Florida from Ohio, just so I could surprise him with my face in real life and see the guy that became one of my closest friends and the guy I also secretly liked. They both agreed that it would be a great plan and I booked my ticket and now was currently on my way.

Dream POV

The countdown was less than two hours. I never knew that revealing my face to anyone would be so nerve wracking, to be honest. Y/N was one of the closest people I had, and she always made my day. The way she laughed, the way she gave smiles, even when she facetimed me crying at one in the morning about a guy she was gorgeous. George was currently talking to me, but I must’ve not been paying attention because he kept calling my name loudly. “CLAY!” “CLAYYYY!” “CLAYTONNNN!” I blinked and shook my head. “Yeah?” “How you feeling, big guy?” “Don’t call me that, and nervous.” He laughed and wiggled his eyebrows.“Someone’s got a crushhhh~” I shoved him. “Oh sush, you would too if you knew her like I did.” “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” “Where’d Sapnap go?” I ask, wondering how the house got so quiet. “He’s out getting groceries.” “Oh, alright.”

Y/N POV

I was here. In freaking Florida! I texted Clay/Dream and grinned.

DweamyPoo ☺️ I’m so excited to see you!

Me too! Think I can get a glimpse right now? 🥺

You’ve waited this long now! A few more hours won’t hurt you!

Oh whatever 🙄🙄

😜😜😜

I giggled and looked around for Sapnap. Soon enough, I saw a guy with a sign that said, “DREAM’S GIRLFRIEND Y/N! WELCOME TO WARM WEATHER!”

I rolled my eyes and gave him a hug. “Hey mamacita!” He gasped. “That’s my line!” I laughed and pointed to the sign. “I’m not Clay’s girlfriend.” He winked. “Not yet.” I groaned. “Whatever.” He helped me with my bags and put them in the trunk, and started up the car. I grabbed the aux and put on my playlist of Dream songs. He gave me a side eye and shook his head. “Really?” “Yes. Absolutely.”

DREAM POV

“Clayyyy! Only a few more minutes!” I was pacing. A lot. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. I know. What if she doesn’t like me though? Or decides that I’m too ugly to look at and blocks me? I don’t think I could handle that, she literally means the world to me, George.” George sighs and smiles. “I think you love herrrrr.” I blush. “Shut up!” I hear the car pull up and perk up, hoping to divert the conversation. “Nick’s home! Should we help him with the groceries, George?” He nods and grabs his phone. “Yeah, lemme record something real quick.” I gave him a confused look. “Why?” “Oh nothing, still getting used to everything here, I wanna vlog.” I shrug and smile, “Alright, I guess.” I start making my way to the front door and see another person. “What-“

Y/N POV

I’m here, and I’ve got so many butterflies inside my stomach. I grip Nick’s arm and whisper. “What if I’m not what he expects? What if he decides I’m not pretty enough for him?” Nick puts a hand on my shoulder and reassures me. “Y/N he’s literally in love with you, you’re thinking too much on the “what if’s” and not in the moment of you guys. Trust me, he’ll think you’re pretty, and I haven’t even seen your face yet either.” I grin and get out of the car. “Thanks, Snapmap.” He rolls his eyes. “You ruined our moment!” My eyes flickered to the door and smiled. I was here, he was here, at the same time. He opened the door and I covered my eyes. “OMG! IS THAT YOU, Y/N?”

DREAM POV I blinked and rubbed my eyes. Was y/n seriously here? She waved and smiled. Gosh, that smile could be the death of me, it makes the whole world brighter when she shines it. “CLAY!!” “Y/N!!!” I ran up to her and brought her into a hug. “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’RE HERE!” She giggled and hugged me back. “Well yeah, I wanted to see Gogy of course.” I mock cried. “I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I wanted to see you.” “Good. Cause I was about to pinch myself to convince myself that you’re here and real.” Y/N pinched me. “Ouch!” “You said to pinch you.” “Not literally!” She rolled her eyes and looked up at me.

Y/N POV

He was really handsome. Like really handsome. His brown and blond hair curled around his face and his jawline. Omg, his jawline! It was sharp! And his eyes, dark emeralds, that would make the rarest gem in the world envious of the color he had in his eyes. He was perfect. “Um, Y/N? Are you alright?” Clay said, laughing. “Sorry, I got caught up in your beauty.” He kettle wheezed and blushed. “Really?” I nodded and glanced at his lips. He looked down at mine and started to lean towards me. I leaned forward and our lips connected. I swear I heard fireworks go off outside. It was magical, something that couldn’t be described with words. We broke apart and stared at each other, grinning. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and kissed me again. “Y/N I love you, so much.” I giggled. “You’re lucky I love you too.”

THE END

[glossysoap]

my reread ramblings will commence under the cut as usual 🫡

Usually, he can hear the creak of your mattress as you get up—the thing must be ancient, and he’s concerned for your back—and the rumble of your plumbing as you turn on the sink first thing in the morning. You’re always up about an hour and a half after he is, close to eight-thirty, and you usually meet him outside about an hour later. Slow riser, you are. (He tries not to fantasize too much about tiptoeing around in the mornings as you snuggle in his bed, wrapped in his blankets as he gets breakfast ready for the both of you.) But today there’s not a whisper of your horrible bedsprings from the other side of the wall. The pipes remain silent. When he steps outside today, he will be alone. You’re gone for two days. He can handle that long. He can.

HNHFHFHFHF the way his day starts out with missing you!!! and he's so insistent on being able to last without you for that long but he knows he can't hdjsjhjjfdsj 🥺🥺🤭🤭

He shouldn’t be thinking of your hand wrapped around him instead, as his fingers cover your clit and dip into your cunt, when he’s not even sure you will have him at all. John does not like to indulge in fantasy that cannot become reality. I wanted to touch you. John snarls, bucking into his hand.

AGHHHHHH him jerking off and snarling as he thinks about you???? yeah i'm folding so fuckign FAST. catch me scurrying my ass home to marry this man 🤭🤭

He remembers it—your distant cry making it to him through drywall, insulation, and the patter of his own shower, and if he closes his eyes he can almost fool himself now, as hot water slides down his back and chest, that he can hear it again— I wanted to touch you— He comes, short and hard, palm sliding fast up and down his shaft, groaning roughly as his cum hits the tile. Water streams down around his face in steady rivulets, joining it. He wants you to trust him. He wants you to let him spoil you rotten.

HNNNGGGG the yearning!!! the pure need and want!!! the way he yearns to just spoil you and cherish you like you deserve to be cherished!!! he wants you to accept his compliments and gestures 🥺🥺

It’s dull. He misses you. And once his front door closes behind him, hours of silence loom in the periphery. He’s settling into his armchair for a game on TV—championship league, nothing worth paying attention to, John just can’t stand the quiet—when his phone, deep in his pocket, vibrates. When he pulls it out, his heart leaps.

HE MISSES HERRRRR i love this so much jdkjdkdj him getting excited when he gets a text from her fsfjskfs SO CUTEEE 🤭🤭

I take it back, dump that swill on the ground, Price types, grinning harder. It’s really fine! you protest. He imagines your expression, the kind draw of your brows together in spirited defense—an expression he’s seen on you many times, advocating for some character or another that he has developed a grudge against. God, does he miss you. Fine for uni lads maybe, he sends. You do remember who I’m supervising on this trip? John snorts. Point taken. Then, impulsively, I’ll get you something even better when you’re home. Home. When you’re home. As if home is one place, and not two, separate places merely conjoined. You spoil me John He sends back immediately, I’m trying to There’s a lag. John realizes belatedly that perhaps he’s doing it again, coming on too strong. He can’t help it. When he knows what he wants—when he knows he can pursue it—he does not bother with half measures. He has been through and done too much to hedge his efforts while knowing how easily things can escape his grasp. He has to remind himself that holding onto you too tightly, though, could cause you to slip through his fingers. Then, finally—I don’t know why Bells ring in John’s head. Can’t a man treat a woman he fancies? he asks. Dots jump for what feels like several minutes, disappearing several times. He imagines you typing rapidly, that worried look he’s seen so often creasing your brow and tightening the corners of your mouth. Eventually, a cascade. I don’t know WHY you fancy me

AHHHHH oh my god oh my god oh my godddd the way he smiles while he's texting her!! the way they banter jfdshjk and the way he keeps complimenting her and she doesn't accept it is sooooo real.

John’s frown deepens with every successive message. This is it. This is the answer to his question, or it’s somewhere in there. He’s been wondering all day—now, this is his chance. I’d like to call you, he replies. Is now a good time?

DJSJKSKS the way he hates what you're saying and he's frowning!! and he just NEEDS to talk to you right then and there!!!

i'm in love i'm in loveeeee

reviewing the prelude

previous - neighbors - next

John misses you.

There is no noise next door.

Silence, in Price's line of work, almost always precludes trouble. The quiet stalk of a fireteam toward an objective; the abrupt halt of an informant’s intel. Never good. Always the guarantee of a day’s bad end.

Usually, he can hear the creak of your mattress as you get up—the thing must be ancient, and he’s concerned for your back—and the rumble of your plumbing as you turn on the sink first thing in the morning. You’re always up about an hour and a half after he is, close to eight-thirty, and you usually meet him outside about an hour later. Slow riser, you are.

(He tries not to fantasize too much about tiptoeing around in the mornings as you snuggle in his bed, wrapped in his blankets as he gets breakfast ready for the both of you.)

But today there’s not a whisper of your horrible bedsprings from the other side of the wall. The pipes remain silent. When he steps outside today, he will be alone.

You’re gone for two days. He can handle that long. He can.

Still, he lingers in bed the first morning, agitated, too warm in the sheets but stubbornly trying to act like he’s still perfectly comfortable. It doesn’t work. The bed linens dampen as he starts sweating, and his morning wood is more insistent than it usually is. He sighs and gets up, lays the blankets back to let them air dry, and gets his day started.

Once he’s in the shower, and the water has warmed enough to step into, John angles the shower head to spray a little higher and leans against the cool tile wall. Hot water pounds his chest, streaming down between his pectorals and over the jumping muscles of his stomach as he takes his cock in hand and gives it a stroke from head to root. He closes his eyes.

John does not have any shame in jerking off, not really, but a niggling something always tickles the back of his mind when he thinks of you while doing it. Like he’s being too pushy, even in his own head, when he knows that you’re not on the same page as him yet.

He shouldn’t be thinking of your hand wrapped around him instead, as his fingers cover your clit and dip into your cunt, when he’s not even sure you will have him at all. John does not like to indulge in fantasy that cannot become reality.

I wanted to touch you. John snarls, bucking into his hand.

He hadn’t lied to you. He hadn’t. He can wait as long as you need. If he gets to have you, he wants you eager. He wants you certain. He wants you to relax into him without fear or doubt. Whatever he wants from you is secondary to that—he can’t enjoy himself, enjoy you, if you don’t trust him.

Would you trust him if you knew you inspired his hand to wrap around his cock?

He doesn’t know. He’s not sure. All he knows is that after he left that night, you did the exact same thing he’s doing now. That has to mean something.

He remembers it—your distant cry making it to him through drywall, insulation, and the patter of his own shower, and if he closes his eyes he can almost fool himself now, as hot water slides down his back and chest, that he can hear it again—

I wanted to touch you—

He comes, short and hard, palm sliding fast up and down his shaft, groaning roughly as his cum hits the tile. Water streams down around his face in steady rivulets, joining it.

He wants you to trust him. He wants you to let him spoil you rotten.

Turning the water off once he finishes his shower, John keeps thinking as he absently towels off. He keeps getting the sense that there’s something he’s missing.

If you want him—and he knows now, you do want him—why haven’t you said anything? He thinks about all of the times he’s tried to flirt, tried to make his interest known, only for you to treat it like a joke. Incorrigible, you call him, as if his overtures are the result of some unsatisfied appetite. As if you haven’t, from the very start, given him every reason imaginable to want you.

He studies himself in the bathroom mirror as he touches up his beard, remembering the linger of your gaze across his body. He is not a vain man, not quite, but even he might like to preen a bit over how good he looks for pushing forty. He can’t keep up with Ghost at the racks, nor Gaz on the track circuit, and Soap has him beat at the punching bags, but Price has logged every personal best within the last three years. His shoulders are broad, his chest hard and defined, and his waist tapers nicely down to wide thighs and full calves.

He runs a hand across his stomach. He’d never managed, though, to get the cut look he sees in perfume ads and superhero movies these days. Is that what women like now? Is that what you like?

If it was a complete lack of attraction on your part, he’d understand. But Price is a details man. He misses nothing, especially when it comes to you. The way you look at him, the way you move around him reveals more than he knows you ever intend to. He hears your breath shorten when he’s close, sees your pupils dilate, your brows soften. You don’t lean away when he leans in.

He remembers your gaze again, the first morning and many mornings after, and snorts at himself. Attraction, he’s fairly sure, isn’t the issue.

So what is, then?

Rather than spend the morning moping, and waiting for the ambiance of your morning routine that simply would not come, John finds a clean pair of sweats, laces into his trainers, and goes for a jog. Running has always helped him think.

Part of him wonders if his fixation is inspired in part by a long dry spell. Price hasn’t been with anyone in a long while—months, actually. His last encounter had been with a woman he’d been casually seeing in between deployments.

She’d been nice enough, certainly eager for him. They would meet, have drinks, maybe a meal, and have sex. He’d spend the night and leave early in the morning. They didn’t talk much, not at least about anything serious. She never asked about his work. She never really asked much about him at all.

Which had been the arrangement. Price had been candid about his situation from the beginning—his work came first, and he had little room in his life for much else. He couldn’t offer her much in the way of long-term commitment when he had to make peace with the real possibility that each deployment was one he might not come back from. She’d seemed to understand. It had taken Price a while to figure out that she just…hadn’t really cared.

It was more likely, he knew, that she simply could not grasp that he could die. Few civilians could really wrap their head around that fact. He couldn’t really blame her for that.

But he couldn’t deny either that seeing her had started to make it feel like his insides were slowly decaying. All he was to her was a big, rough man who would throw her around in bed and wouldn’t bother her with trite things like domesticity and mortality. A fantasy. Nothing more.

He’d broken it off in person, frank and respectful, and she’d taken it as well as he’d hoped.

Then she’d texted him a few weeks later inviting him over for drinks. He neglected to respond and blocked her number.

The cool morning air is sharp in Price’s lungs, painfully welcome, as he counts his breaths in the back of his head. He’d given up after all of that. He didn’t need sex. He didn’t need a relationship. If the walls of his flat closed in around him when he was home, alone, well—that was the sacrifice, wasn’t it? The price he paid to be able to go out into the world and fix things that other men only complained about after watching the news.

It shouldn’t matter that these days those problems didn’t stay fixed anymore.

Price finishes his circuit and comes to a gradual stop back at his front doorstep, panting hard, hands on hips as he heaves and wonders if maybe he should cut back on smoking.

He looks to your window, dark and shuttered. You always have a hot mug of coffee pressed between your palms.

He could try coffee.

The day passes. John spends some time getting his affairs in order for the end of his leave, reads the latest book you’ve lent him (a retrospective on the rise and fall of the American cattle boom), spends an hour at the gym, two at the pub, and comes home again to dark windows next door.

It’s dull. He misses you. And once his front door closes behind him, hours of silence loom in the periphery.

He’s settling into his armchair for a game on TV—championship league, nothing worth paying attention to, John just can’t stand the quiet—when his phone, deep in his pocket, vibrates. When he pulls it out, his heart leaps.

It’s just a text message. He unlocks his phone and navigates to the chat. You’ve sent a photo: a glass, filled with some sort of liquor and a couple of ice cubes, set on a rickety old plank of wood that must be a table.

Ordered this in your honor. Pretty good! Not sure of the brand. Can’t remember the one we got either

John smiles. He can’t help it. He even laughs a little, and taps on the picture to zoom in—your hand is in the frame, laying gently alongside the glass, nails painted a pretty light color and a thin silver ring around your index finger. He takes this in with the voracity of a man starving.

Macallan, he replies. The best. That looks good though

Three dots dance as you type. My coworker says it’s Johnnie Walker

I take it back, dump that swill on the ground, Price types, grinning harder.

It’s really fine! you protest.

He imagines your expression, the kind draw of your brows together in spirited defense—an expression he’s seen on you many times, advocating for some character or another that he has developed a grudge against.

God, does he miss you.

Fine for uni lads maybe, he sends.

You do remember who I’m supervising on this trip?

John snorts. Point taken. Then, impulsively, I’ll get you something even better when you’re home.

Home. When you’re home. As if home is one place, and not two, separate places merely conjoined.

You spoil me John

He sends back immediately, I’m trying to

There’s a lag. John realizes belatedly that perhaps he’s doing it again, coming on too strong. He can’t help it. When he knows what he wants—when he knows he can pursue it—he does not bother with half measures. He has been through and done too much to hedge his efforts while knowing how easily things can escape his grasp.

He has to remind himself that holding onto you too tightly, though, could cause you to slip through his fingers.

Then, finally—I don’t know why

Bells ring in John’s head. Can’t a man treat a woman he fancies? he asks.

Dots jump for what feels like several minutes, disappearing several times. He imagines you typing rapidly, that worried look he’s seen so often creasing your brow and tightening the corners of your mouth.

Eventually, a cascade.

I don’t know WHY you fancy me

There’s nothing really interesting about me

I’m quite boring

Not like you

You’ve been so to many places and done so many things and I’ve never even left the country and I don’t see how you could even like talking to me much less do anything else

I teach lit and read books and that’s all my life is and that’s not really sexy

You must have better options

I may be a little tipsy sorry

John’s frown deepens with every successive message.

This is it. This is the answer to his question, or it’s somewhere in there. He’s been wondering all day—now, this is his chance.

I’d like to call you, he replies. Is now a good time?

A brief pause, with John’s stomach hanging suspended in the air the whole time.

Then, Yes

He dials you. You pick up on the first ring.

“Hello,” you say.

[mangoposts]

https://www.tumblr.com/mangoposts/749798408883191808/httpswwwtumblrcommangoposts74979153679294464

thank youuuuu, it’s for my brothers ceremony and i’m SO excited. i don’t want to leave my dog behind because she’s my bestfriend LMAO. like she deadass sleeps in bed with me. any time i sit on any chair, recliner, or couch, she sits on me like she’s a small lap dog when she’s actually an 80 pound pitbull dogo argentino mix

-🌸

Reminds me of my dog although she actually is a tiny lap dog😭 She’s literally on my head as im typing this

You should find a way to bring herrrrr

[an-annyeoing-writer]

ahh im happy you felt the love with my message!!! honestly, you've made many of my days infinitely better because i get to read your works and get consumed by these concepts you come up with. so you really deserve all the love and recognition, i can't even explain how much joy you've given me whenever i go back to re read derision 💕 there's something about it that tickles a part of my brain that nothing else has.. i mean come on bh going through hell and naive reader is involved in his suffering but has a connection with him and genuinely wanting to help, then the tables turn and bh gets to put reader through hell and suddenly acts cold, wanting to inflict suffering on her as his revenge BUT STILL CARING ABT HERRRRR DSGJNLK why is that so hot and alluring HELPP it's dark and mysterious and obsessive but heartwarming and sweet in a twisted sick way and it's perfect and i love it, this ask doesn't even come close to expressing my love for it either but just know derision is my favorite plot ever i swear. you seriously popped off when you came up with that concept. and yes i have read (and loveee) sweet lies and unhealthy obsession! you're the master of these dark unsettling concepts dear god o_o also bh is somehow so perfect for dark plots.. it's his trojan horse outward aegyo but inner cool mature manliness sweet boy charm.. ooohhh ill be excited for that upcoming lucky one insp fic too omg!!!!???! i am SEATED. the lucky one vibe is really just too good i love it. and ily more!!!!!

Jesus 🥺 I already said it before but it means SO MUCH to hear these things, you're spoiling me for real  😭😭 I just hope you're always happy and safe and all because you're one treasure of a human being 🥺

You're so damn right about Baekhyun though, the Monster MV was literally the reason I got into KPOP to begin with, he did catch me with that vibe, he's VERY perfect for that. He's just a master of facial expressions that send shivers down your spine... I mean,

He looks like a literal alien here. Like just, both scary and somewhat soft/innocent at once???? That's just so surreal. I am DEVOURING this concept.

He can be so goddamn ominous too. Like is he even a real person???????? IDK???????????????????????????

But YASSS it won't be anytime soon since I want to finish Bloodline first before starting something more serious (and those series will be more lengthy for sure), but I'm pretty excited as well. And I mean... now that we started talking about it, I'm going to be definitely writing many more ominous Baekhyuns. I MUST.

Also below is a random snippet without a context of Demon!Baekhyun that I started writing some time ago just because I thought you might like it.

He lifted his hand and carefully rested the edge of the knife at your neck; no pressure needed for the slight prickle of pain to appear and your breath to hitch. You felt your heartbeat quicken, slowly but surely bringing your other senses alive as well – some vibrating sounds in the background, the smell of fire, dark background and soft crystal-looking light coming from above your head. Where the hell were you….? “D… don’t” you choked out with difficulty, your voice hoarse and strangled; something seemed to be stuck in your throat and you started coughing. The tension of the knife on your neck didn’t cease, but neither did it strengthen, held right at the edge of causing the littlest amount of pain without damaging the skin, as though to remind you it’s still there. “Why not?” His voice was nicer than you expected, youthful and not at all expressionless, oozing with childlike innocence. “You are dead already, love. I just want to have a feast” he informed with a pinch of arrogance. “I’m not dead” you snarled. “Hardly” he scoffed in response. The knife’s edge trailed down your neck, stopping right above your sternum and pressing into the soft issue. You coughed again and gagged on whatever was stuck in your throat. “In fact, I am the only thing keeping you from burning alive. That would not be pleasant at all, love. Don’t worry, I will be gentle with you. Gentler than the flames would be.”

[oxpogues4lifexo]

AHHHHH I LOVE HERRRRR

She is literally me in a nutshell I’m so excited to see more of herrrrrrr 🤭🤭

get to know pogue!reader

pogue!reader who is super smart, knows what she wants, a little hyper independent, works hard for what she wants. she's easy to be around, she studied her life away to get a good scholarship, it didn't come until a year later, she had applied for thousands of scholarships and the community college finally gave her one. she wants to be a nurse but thinks being a teacher will be better fitting in obx. 

pogue!reader who is sweet, kind, shy and sassy at the same time. she stands on business, loves to help others. elderly people love her, everyone that meets her likes her. she's a sunshine,  just don't provoke her. she's a family girl, her mom is the most important person to her, and the pogues are her chosen family.

pogue!reader loves books, berries, flowers and painting. she doesn't have enough time sometimes to do stuff but when she does she enjoys it. loves sunsets and having a golden retriever one of her dream. escapes from the pogues from time to time to just be by herself. she feels guilty for wanting to stop being a pogue and get a better life, she has only admitted that to her mom and pope, who agreed with her, she still feels guilty about it.

pogue!reader who even kooks like her, the elderly more always saying how sweet she looked and how kind she was. she met this old couple once at the cafe she worked at, the sweetest elderly couple. she became their friend and they always gave her jobs in their events and helped her find a new job with better pay that allows her to help her mom with house bills. who is also friends with sarah thanks to john b the only kook the pogues accept and enjoy being around.

pogue!reader who for whatever reason is rafe’s soft spot, he doesn’t like her at least that’s what he keeps telling himself, but if she’s alone at a kegger keeps her company, cold? no problem his jacket is around her. she doesn’t get it either but at the same time doesn't complain. she put him in his place, he hates that. she’s outspoken, sassy, a smartass as he would call her but he finds that appealing, hot even. they can easily talk with each other. when he finds out she works at the country club, he finds the most stupid excuses to be there all the time. topper teases him about it but lets him be even comes with him to be used as his excuse and thats when he understands why rafe likes her so much. 

taglist: @starkeyvhs

authors note: im so happy to finally introduce her! im so excited for you guys to know her story, all that i have planned for her, this feels like a milestone because i have never let anyone read anything of what i've written ever in my life so i really hope you get to like her as much as i do and to like what i have planned.

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INTHELIBRARYBTW ✧.*

[mb0w]

vibrating w fury that i don’t have time to draw c!hannah fairy rn😐😐

[handcat]

feeling sad abt my last reblog so here’s bianca with a toy i made her <3